


Tony is a suit porn guy and Steve loves it (hell yes)

by nerakrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, M/M, Suit Porn, abuse of commas, amazingly talkative inner monologue steve, too many parentheses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve takes kinks very seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony is a suit porn guy and Steve loves it (hell yes)

**Author's Note:**

> betaed by mrs_jack_turner <3 (whose fault it is that this exist in the first place; she showed me [this picture](http://nerakrose.tumblr.com/post/24406210358#notes) and said "this qualifies as suit porn, doesn't it?".)

It was extremely unfair, Steve thought, looking at Tony across the room. Very, very unfair. Tony, being his Tony self, was strutting around with a glass of champagne, smiling and chatting and, well, being Tony. (That wasn't the real problem, though. Tony would always be Tony and Steve didn't mind the chatting and smiling...much.)

Looking at Tony wasn't really conducive to Steve's eloquence, even if he wasn't actually _talking_ , talking was overrated anyway, or right in this moment at least, because all Steve wanted was to continue looking at Tony.

Specifically, at the outrageous suit he was wearing and how incredibly sexy it looked on him. Steve had never seen anyone in a purple suit before (there was _something_ good about the future) and if asked, he'd probably have said it was ridiculous and no one should wear a purple suit.

Except for Tony Stark, apparently. Steve groaned inwardly and wondered whether it was possible to die from sexual desire. _Strong_ sexual desire. Very strong.

It was weird, really. He got the uniform thing, hell, Steve had a uniform and sometimes when he tilted the mirror so he couldn't see his own face, it was very easy to pretend it was someone else with a hot body in a uniform standing there. Not that he'd ever pleasured himself to his own mirror image, though the idea was tempting - no. He got the uniform thing, he really did. Bucky had looked irresistible in one, and he'd sneaked a glance too many at other soldiers over the years.

But the suit thing, that was unexpected. It, well, it didn't make _sense_. Suits were just suits. They weren't special; not to Steve, who'd grown up in a decade where suits were everyday attire for most men, nothing spectacular. But then there was Tony and there was Tony's suit - suits, really, because he had several - and it was completely different.

So Steve continued staring at Tony (aware that Tony wasn't the only one wearing a suit, there were some really nice suits around, but none like Tony's) and thought: it was unfair. Because it was.

*

The problem with Tony and his suits, Steve thought, was that Tony had _suits_. As in, nice dress suits, such as the purple one from the party last week, or the brown plaid one with the red tie from the week before that, or the grey one with the...white shirt with pink blotches, all very eccentric and flashy and very _Tony_ , because Tony did classy on a level that exceeded classy (he was sure of this, the internet had told him), but Steve was really getting away from himself here and the point was. _Suits_.

Because there was also the Iron Man suit. Suits. In plural. By now he knew the difference between the Mark II and Mark III and Mark V and so on, but. Really. He knew Tony was flashy, that hadn't taken him long to discover, and he'd known Howard and Howard was much the same, he'd worn suits too, very nice suits, considering it'd been war, but it wasn't war now and the times had changed and Tony was just a tad - flashier - different, actually and, well. The dress suits were one thing, but.

Did Tony really have to build his suits to...erm. Well. Did they have to look so... _naked_? Did they really have to look like they were sculpted from some kind of body ideal (a body ideal Steve was very aware that he'd come to encompass; he'd been strung out from pain and exhaustion when he'd stepped out of that chamber, but he'd noticed, he'd definitely noticed how they'd looked at him, and Peggy, Peggy who was always in control, had _lost_ control, and it'd been very weird, until he'd seen himself in the mirror. He understood now.)?

Knowing Tony Stark: Yes. It was no coincidence that the Iron Man suits were primarily gold and fiery red and modelled after Tony's own body (or so he thought, no scratch that, _imagined_ ).

It didn't make it any less _unfair_.

*

Steve was pretty hard pressed to say why exactly the Tony and suits combination was so unfair, but he had a pretty good idea of it, the idea consisting mostly of wet dreams, fantasies and far too many zoning-outs-while-looking-at-Tony.

It could also have something to do with personal attraction, though that was trickier to define: Tony Stark was at best mildly annoying and at worst...well, Steve didn't really want to go there, because few things got his blood boiling as much as Tony.

The internet was a clever, clever thing and provided him with pages and pages of photographs of beautiful suits. There were some that Steve thought maybe he would want to wear himself some day, when he was feeling daring, and some that he thought would look very good on Tony. Most of them would look good on Tony, even that mustard yellow one with the moss green tie, because Steve had yet to see Tony look ridiculous in a ridiculous suit. His charm rubbed off on whatever he was wearing, as well as his surroundings and so it always seemed like he elevated the standards wherever he went.

But yes, suits, beautiful, beautiful suits, eccentric, flashy, colourful, tacky, random suits full of swag. Or well, on Tony they'd be full of swag.

Steve had a suit thing, he was sure. Not in a I-want-to-rub-myself-against-that-suit kind of thing, he thought, but a wow-that's-a-really-handsome-suit kind of way. Sort of. Especially when the suit was on Tony and it became a can-I-touch-you-all-over-and-then-maybe-I-don't-know-go-on-a-date thing. Or maybe the date first and touching later. That was usually the order, best stick to that.

The thing was, he wasn't completely sure he even wanted Tony out of the suit. The idea of naked Tony in his bed, touching naked Tony and, well, having sex with him, was _very_ appealing, and Steve had given it a lot of thought. The problem was, and that got him back to the suits, was that he didn't get as hot and bothered thinking about sex with Tony as he did thinking about Tony in a nice suit. Or the Iron Man suit. He really liked the Mark IV one.

Specifically, he got really hot and bothered thinking about feeling Tony up through the fabric of a nice suit. Debauching him in a nice suit until the suit got ruffled and ungentlemanly, and Tony's tie was loose and undignified. It was a very nice mental image and one which made Steve very grateful that he had completely privacy in his room in Stark Tower, unlike the one at SHIELD headquarters.

*

The gay thing wasn't really an issue for Steve, at least not an issue he gave a lot of thought - unlike the suits issue. It just was, and while he'd been mildly uncomfortable about it before the ice, he had no such compunctions now. It just was, it was a fact about himself that he couldn't change, like he couldn't change his hair colour or his beliefs or his shoe size (which hadn't changed with the serum).

It just was, like the suit thing had now also turned into irrefutable fact. The internet had informed him of the definition of the word 'kink' and so he had now come to think of his suit thing as a suit kink and it made him oddly... _proud_. Having a kink was apparently something everyone had, something to take pride in and derive joy from. Natasha often joked that Clint had a gag kink, Bruce made digs at Tony about his coffee kink (which Steve suspected was actually a joke) and Coulson, when he was in the mood, would make comments about Thor's brother kink, which always confused Thor ("MY BROTHER DOES NOT HAVE KINKS, SON OF COUL. I HAVE INSTRUCTED HIM IN THIS STRETCHING EXERCISE WHICH THE MORTALS ARE SO FOND OF.") and made Tony snigger into his coffee.

No one had yet made an observation about Steve and his suit kink. Tony had once made a joke about blondes, which was confusing (it'd only been that one time), but that hardly counted. No one knew about it, which was hardly surprising as Steve didn't know how to go about making it known that he had a kink and what kind of kink it was. It appeared as if a kink was something one didn't _advertise_ , rather something that was _observed_ by others.

He really wanted the inclusion, though. He didn't like being out of time and out of place, and as he'd by now managed to update himself on pop culture, history and technological progress, he was less out of time than he'd been. He was still a little out of place, if only by habit.

So he started small. He complimented Tony on his suits before they went out, or at the party. He complimented Clint on his choice of designer (Clint probably had an Armani kink and Steve was supremely proud of himself for thinking that one up) and Bruce on his ties. Natasha donned suits sometimes, too, even if they were of a female cut, but they were lovely and she got a compliment too. Thor, well, he _tried_ , but Steve took pity on him and always said something nice even if he really, really wanted to lend him one of his own suits (he'd started collecting, not that he had much use for them as he couldn't often opt out of the dress uniform).

Then he started leaving out magazines opened on page spreads containing nicely dressed men. Sometimes, especially if Tony was nearby, he'd make a comment about how this or that suit was sexy and leave it for Tony to see (after the third time, Tony seemed to get the hint - that or he was just easily trainable - and started purchasing and wearing the suits Steve talked about). One time, Loki had shown up in a velvet dress jacket and Steve had nearly had a heart attack. When he mentioned the jacket to Tony, trying to sound casual about it, Tony had given him a funny look and then proceeded to glare at Loki all evening. (Well, Tony had reason to glare at Loki, but Steve had a feeling it wasn't because of his villainy this time.)

It wasn't until the day Tony caught him fondling his suit that he had some kind of breakthrough. He hadn't _really_ been fondling it, but it'd been the word Tony had used and Steve found himself confessing that the fabric was really nice and it was a sexy suit and it'd been amazing on Tony, and the weird thing was that he hadn't once stumbled over the words. Because this was important; this was a Thing.

Tony'd blinked and cracked a joke and Steve's smile had faltered and then Tony had, well, Tony had panicked. It was hilarious, in hindsight ("No, no I understand, it's cool, I'm cool with it, so did you want me to put it on right now because I can do that, I'll go put it on now and then you can fondle us both, that's a great idea-"), because Tony's mouth always ran off with him and the garble of words that had streamed out of his mouth had nearly left Steve breathless, as if he were running in an attempt to keep up with him.

*

A lot of things could be said about suits, and Steve had said them _all_ , and a lot of things could be said about his suit fantasies, which he'd not actually said much about, but it was something else to have Tony in his room, wearing one of his nicer suits (the blue pinstriped one with the blue bowtie) and it was understood that Steve was supposed to - again, Tony's words - perv over him. The suit.

It was...surprisingly easy. And unsurprisingly fast. A couple of minutes of Tony breathing against his neck while Steve palmed him through his trousers and rutted against his leg, there'd been some snogging too, and Tony'd pulled Steve's shirt out of his trousers to touch his skin. Steve'd been elated with the same kind of rush he usually experienced in dangerous situations, or when he'd (rarely) done something he wasn't supposed to do. And Tony, Tony'd been so _hot_ and responsive and afterwards he'd been beautifully flushed and just as ruffled as Steve'd imagined.

What was surprising was that Steve, contrary to what he'd thought, was just as excited about sex with Tony even when there were no suits involved. Tony'd gotten out of the (probably ruined, Steve didn't think the cleansing service could get semen out of that kind of delicate fabric, and wasn't that a shame?) suit, talking over and around Steve's monosyllabic, post-coital utterances ("Why are you even still dressed, have you not been listening? I am completely serious, I'm always serious and this is a very serious subject and you are overdressed for the occasion-") and dragged Steve to bed again ("Come on super-soldier, put that serum to proper use and fire up your cock again because I think my ass wants a go, are you even into that? It's cool if you're not because I've a fantastic mouth, it's very talented and I'd like to use it on you-") and Steve, well, he was following his cock.

Tony never shut up, but Steve had gotten used to it by now; you didn't live in the same house as Tony Stark and didn't eventually get used to his quirks, and his mouth (which was actually very talented, Steve had to give him that). He'd also known that Tony cared a lot more about other people than he let on, but he was nevertheless very surprised when Tony said they should go out, because wasn't this just a...thing? A thing that happened twice, then once more, then again twice, and after two weeks there was a pattern, even to Tony's chatter, but Tony'd broken that pattern now, because going out hadn't been a part of it before.

The answer was easy enough. "Sure, if you promise to wear a suit." Tony agreed (as if he was going to say no).


End file.
